Happy Birthday Mr President
by ArsinoetheXXVII
Summary: Being the leader of a nation is hard work. But there should be one day a year a man in such a position can truly indulge... And that might be true for someone OTHER than Byakuya Kuchiki. Even on his birthday the, Commander and Chief of the United States, finds it hard to cut loose. Maybe this year, however, will be different. One-shot


Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

AN: Well this is a little one-shot that I wanted to throw out there in honor of my favorite stoic stud's (*COUGH*belated) b-day because let's face it- everybody needs a good end to a long day!

Those of you who follow Fulfillment should recognize my OC Xochitl (So-oh-chee)- she's familiar so I thought I would make it somewhat easy 4 myself!

As the title and rating denote- there's some SC- most of the second half actually. Thanks to the muses of baby-making music! Also note that this was partially inspired by Marilyn Monroe's version of "Happy Birthday" sung to JFK.

Enjoy!

* * *

_***One Shot***_

_Happy Birthday, Mr. President_

* * *

Every year it was the same. The morning greetings, the news interview, the ribbing jokes about his age the Secretary of State lodged at him, and of course the party.

Birthdays in the White House were rather predictable.

* * *

He ate a traditional Japanese (AN: we Americans are progressive- we could have an intelligent Japanese Pres one day) breakfast of steamed rice, miso, and tamagoyaki peppered with nori. His sister, a rather stalwart republican senator who opposed him on various topics (which made for great press) joined him as she did every year. The press, nearly present at every step during the day, ate it up. Despite their diverse views the two siblings were on good terms which reeled in the family demographic come campaign season. But in all honesty, flashing cameras aside, the two enjoyed sharing this day of all days together.

After breakfast, they were allowed an all-too-brief time alone to stroll in the gardens.

* * *

"What will you do with yourself today, Nii-sama?" Rukia queried with a smile as they paused to stare at the playful fountain in the middle of the garden path.

He took a deep breath and carefully exhaled without sighing, "At ten forty-five I must attend a cabinet meeting where they will chuckle about the last U.N. summit and insist that I eat a piece of Senator Reynard's wife's over-frosted cake- on the pretense that it is my _**special**_ day. Following which I will meet with my Secretary of State and suffer through both a debriefing regarding the recent trip to Japan and his inappropriate jokes about my age and ehem- _**relationship status**_. I will then adjourn for lunch at which I will again be implored to sample another special birthday cake made this time by the chef. At two-,"

His sister's warm chuckle brought him up short, "Even on his birthday, Nii-sama is always a slave to routine."

Byakuya darted his eyes to the side in an inconspicuous eye roll. In a dry voice he asked, "Speaking of dull things- where is that _**boy**_ you married?"

Rukia couldn't help but smile at the shot her brother had taken at her husband of two years. It was not so unusual for her brother to off-handedly insult her partner. They fell into an easy walk once more. "Oh you know Ichigo, he's keeping busy."

As Head of the Ecology Department at Berkley, Ichigo did indeed keep busy. And of course with her own career as Senator of California it wasn't often that she had a chance to catch up with her brother across the country. But she managed to make it for every birthday. She hated to see him celebrate them alone.

Her smile faltered a moment as she cast a glance in her brother's direction. His face gave nothing away, but she was sure every time he wandered this garden silently his thoughts escaped to his late wife, Hisana. On a day like today it seemed even more likely he would be reminiscing about the time they had spent together.

Rukia sighed, but soon smiled again as they stepped out onto the avenue of sakura trees that led back to the main house.

"What about the party tonight, are you looking forward to it Nii-sama?" She asked brightly.

"I imagine there will be some form of entertainment provided again this year to cater to my tastes." He responded without a hint of enthusiasm. Rukia bit the inside of her lip to forestall a grimace and then a sigh.

She tried again, forcing the smile back onto her face, "Perhaps you will meet someone nice at the party."

He stopped abruptly and favored her with a very Byakuya look.

She bore it as long as she could before she dropped her gaze and allowed a sigh to escape, "It would be nice if there were someone else with whom you could share this day, Nii-sama… Someone who was not a member of the cabinet…"

Silence descended for a time until she felt him take a step closer to her and she looked up into his grey eyes. She didn't often see that soft light shining in his normally stony gaze.

"It is enough that you are here, Rukia. You are my family after all." He said quietly, gracing her with the warmth of his affection for her.

"Nii-sama." She was flushed with pleasure at his kind words.

The sibling moment was abruptly interrupted however as a flash was seen in the distance.

Rukia smirked. Byakuya contained himself but his eyelids fell further over his eyes in an expression of chagrin.

The two shared one more glance of mutual vexation before schooling their features for the approaching press.

* * *

Even out of the White House things were standard as always.

When he had gone to the infamous pub not too terribly far from 1600 Pennsylvania to shoot his annual two rounds of pool with the vice president, he was not surprised by the woman sitting on a stool at the bar smiling at him. At least she was discreet, minding that there were cameras taking pictures of him "enjoying his birthday". Unlike the escorts hired on previous birthdays (by none-other-than his Secretary of State Gin Ichimaru) she sat surreptitiously in the background and simply gave him an inviting smile whenever he looked her way.

Of course, Byakuya Kuchiki was not interested.

Not only was he a widower (Six years made no difference), but he was a rather strict individual who did not consider loose morals to be a personality trait acceptable in the leader of a nation.

He finished up his two rounds of pool, effectively defeating Renji with minimal effort, and he left, without a glance at the "gift".

Needless to say Gin who had been observing the showdown at the bar, gesturing with his head at the woman any time he caught the president's eye, had hurried to change his mind. But Byakuya as usual gave him one look after his flooding of insistent words and the matter was settled.

With a sigh, watching as the presidential cavalcade drove away, Gin murmured, "A shame to spend your birthday alone, Byakuya-san. And they call ya the most eligible bachelor." But he shrugged, his characteristic grin sliding into place, "Eh, I'll get ya next year."

* * *

By the end of the day, after the meetings, the outings, and the extravagant party held in the East Room, and entirely too much birthday cake, Byakuya was ready to let the night pass in blissful ignorance of the anniversary of his birth.

Lucky for him there was always work to be done in the Oval Office to distract him from any unpleasantness that had occurred during the day. Being the Commander and Chief was not all fun and games after all.

But as he neared his office he slowed, noting that the door was ajar. He took a moment to peer in. His secretary, Xochitl, stood in profile for a moment before moving across the room toward a filing cabinet.

She had appeared just before Rukia's wedding. In the flurry of activity that had surrounded the affair to be held on the White House grounds, Byakuya had barely noted her arrival. But after the wedding was over he could not help but notice her as she had taken the place of one of his aides.

He was not sure he liked the idea of having her as one of his staff at first. She was young and passingly attractive, a smooth oval face of olive to tan coloring, high cheekbones, dark hair and eyes complimented by full lips. He was too quick not to notice the lingering stares of some of the other men.

Byakuya Kuchiki did not tolerate distractions.

But before he could insist on her dismissal she had proven herself invaluable. She just so happened to catch wind of an embezzlement scheme when pouring over the accounts from his campaign during re-election.

He certainly could not find an adequate excuse to fire someone after they had discovered a scandal that could have ruined his reputation. A scandal was never good in any circumstance, but it was better for it to come to light within his inner circle so that it could be revealed in a way that did not become detrimental to his public opinion.

After that she had become a feature around the residence, running errands, organizing meetings and events, and keeping a firm eye on the other staff. Regardless of the fact that she was soft-spoken and demure at times she was also smart and observant which made for a good coordinator of the main household. Byakuya became used to her unassuming presence about the office at various times throughout the day. She always greeted him respectfully and she was one of the few on staff who spoke fluent Japanese.

It was important to surround himself with people he could trust and get along with. On more than one occasion he found her presence pleasant. Still they didn't speak often, but he had to admit if she were to leave he would miss her quiet company.

He should not have been surprised to find her in his office after the party had wound down around one a.m. But still he found himself hesitating at the door.

The lamp on his desk was the only light and it cast her in a soft glow as she leaned over his desk.

Her back was to him which meant her shapely backside was in full view as she bent over an open file, her finger trailing down the page as she read. She was dressed in her usual; what he deemed a uniform. Since her first day she had always been appareled in the same sort of clothing, nude pantyhose, a pencil skirt that reached a little past her knees and a fitted jacket to match. Sturdy, yet cute mary janes always adorned her feet and were never more than an appropriate three inches. The outfit flattered her figure and somehow her personality. She always wore her hair up and kept a pair of black oval thicker framed glasses on. He often thought she looked as though she had walked straight out of the 1940's.

His thoughts were uncommonly circling when he was suddenly recalling a conversation he had had not two days ago in that very office.

"_Why do ya deny yourself? Leader of a nation or not you're a man! No one can expect you to live like a priest!" Gin's words bombarded him suddenly._

"_That's exactly what they expect, Ichimaru. I have no wife. I cannot act as a rich playboy, as some might." Byakuya had responded without emotion or a glance in the Secretary's direction._

_Gin's smile only widened, "What's the point of bein' so powerful if you can't get your rocks off once and while? There's a way to get away with anything if ya just use your resources. Dontcha agree, Abarai?"_

_Renji opened his mouth, but Byakuya's gaze froze him, "Do not encourage him, Renji."_

"_Ugh- yes, sir." Renji simpered._

_At this Gin opened one pure blue eye to give Renji an amused look. The vice president folded his arms across his chest with a defensive scowl and looked away._

"_All I'm sayin'," Gin spread his hands with a shrug, "Is ya gotta do something to release the tension once and awhile. And what better day to indulge than your birthday? You can make a yearly tradition-like thing."_

"_There are plenty of traditions that I already dutifully perform." The president replied with ease._

"_Ah, but sex… That's a worthy tradition to carry on- I mean if it's good. And since it's been so long- it should all be pretty great- yeah?" The white-haired man grinned impudently._

_Byakuya finally cast a long-suffering gaze at his Secretary of State and muttered, "Kindly go about your duties, Ichimaru."_

_Gin put his hands up in defense walking backwards toward the door, looking anything but apologetic. He gave one last full grin before he turned to exit._

_But the president's voice stalled him, "And Ichimaru- do not bother with another of your __**gifts**__. It will not happen."_

_Gin's chuckle echoed in the hallway._

"_Why do you deny yourself?" _Gin's first words seemed to have been burned into his brain…

Suddenly he knew exactly what he wanted. What he needed. It was his birthday after all.

He strode in and quickly and quietly shut the door behind him. She startled at the sound of his entrance and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Mr. President?" She blinked. She had a bit of an accent and the way it caressed over his title caused a shiver up his spine. He said nothing, standing a few steps from the door, every breath loud in his ears.

She had not moved, but to look back at him, but when he did not speak she shifted slightly, switching her weight from one foot to the other, "Is there something you needed, sir?"

He swallowed thickly, but simply dropped his eyes to the ground his jaw clenching.

The tension she saw in him she interpreted as irritation. Quickly she straightened and turned ahead to begin to gather the paperwork she had spread out, "I- remembered that I needed to pull this file before your meeting tomorrow- well- _**today**_, Friday… Excuse me, sir. I will be out of your way in a moment."

But when she heard him move further into the room she paused, papers in hand.

"It's alright. There is no need to rush off." He said evenly.

She nodded at him as he moved around his desk where he pulled out his leather chair, but did not sit, "I was about done. I won't be but a moment, sir."

"Take your time." He said his eyes intensely zeroed in on her face.

Her stomach quivered and she quickly looked down at the ordered mess she had made.

After a while as she carefully reorganized the paperwork she felt his eyes following her movements and she began to feel awkward.

She bit at her lower lip trying to think of something to say to dispel the uncomfortable silence. But instead he beat her to the punch.

"How long have you worked under me, Xochitl?" He asked. _I __**want**__ you under me._

"A little over two years, sir," She replied and glanced up at him, "But you should know that." When he simply held her gaze, the storm-colored eyes glinting with emotion she couldn't understand her eyes fell downward and she began to gather the papers more quickly.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he continued to watch her, his hand resting on the top of his chair, "You have not missed a day in that time. You seem content here."

She nodded, "No, sir, I have not. And yes, I am."

"Either you are very dedicated… Or you are very bored with your home life." He said with an almost musing tone.

Again she grew still as she looked up at him in shock. He had never spoken to her this much. He would offer her a passing greeting and politely inquire about her wellbeing, but he never asked personal questions. Could he have possibly indulged more than usual at the party-it was his birthday- it was understandable…

She offered him a hesitant smile, readjusting her glasses, "I prefer to think I am dedicated, sir." He watched as she licked her lip without thought.

He didn't recall the thought that had forced him to move but he was slowly moving around the desk, his eyes never leaving her.

"Tell me, do you have a boyfriend?"

For several moments she could not find her voice, unsure whether she had heard him correctly.

"No, sir." She finally answered with a blush, her voice barely a whisper. Her hands were suddenly gripping hard to the thin stack in her hands.

"Married?"

She shook her head slowly.

"What is it you do for entertainment?"

"I- suppose-I like to read…Write occasionally… Sometimes…" She watched him out of the corner of her eye, keeping her head bowed. As she had been speaking he had been drawing closer. When she felt his warmth penetrating her back her voice fell silent- the pounding rhythm of her heart flooding her brain.

The fruit, bergamot, and spice, cinnamon, scent of her touched his nose and hesitation was an afterthought.

"You never…" He murmured softly, his hand stealing into her hair at the back of her neck, "Wear your hair down." This said, with his other hand he reached up and took the clip from the top of her head. Her coil of hair slowly slithered down her back, reaching past her shoulders, a silky curtain of darkness. He heard her shuddering breath as he let his fingers slide through the locks, brushing it out so that it spread across her back and over her shoulders.

He stepped around to her side, keeping contact with her skin even as she jerked to face him dropping the papers in her hands.

The documents rustled to the ground.

Byakuya suddenly held her at the back of the neck, his thumb sliding along her jawline and then tracing her bottom lip, "It is my birthday, Xochitl. I don't believe I received a gift from you."

Each breath she took was audible now as she stared into his eyes, her own eyes wide with clear shock and fear. "I- I- got you a- a pair of cufflinks… They- they were inspired by the ones Humphrey Bogart wore in- in The Maltese Falcon."

"I have never seen that movie." He returned easily.

Her eyes widened and he couldn't help but be amused as he couldn't tell if she were appalled by the fact that he had never seen the classic film or that his one hand was gliding up her leg, languidly pulling up her skirt.

"They weren't cheap!" She blurted in a panic as she felt his hand roam past her knee. His lips twitched at this declaration. Yet his mind was too preoccupied at the moment to offer a response. The nylons were silky smooth, and he could feel her warmth beneath them, but he was eager to feel her bare skin.

"I have yet to unwrap my gifts…" He finally said leaning down towards her, his hand still travelling dangerously upward, "A kiss will have to suffice for now." Slowly he guided her back, forcing her to turn slightly so that the desk was a solid barrier behind her.

She sucked in a breath, an unconsciously seductive sound to his ears.

He kept his eyes locked on hers until the last moment, as soon as his gaze fell to her lips; the hunger was raw and consuming. He was tasting her before he realized he had closed his eyes. There were no reservations in the dark, no doubts waiting in the blackness behind his eyelids as he had expected there to be. The urgency in that moment was tamed and he knew he wanted to take his time with her.

Her lips were sweet and plump like ripe fruit. He could tell she had sampled at least a little of the Moscato that had been making the rounds in crystal flutes atop silver trays at the party. When he opened his mouth against hers his thumb forced her jaw down so that he could slip his tongue in to tangle around hers.

She made a sound of half protest as he leaned more deeply into her, her ass pressing into the edge of the desk behind her.

He paused in his exploration of her thigh to concentrate on thoroughly kissing her. Though she had frozen at the onslaught of his lips pressed to hers, her lips trembled now. Her lips had become softer, pliable, allowing him to pour more passion into his kisses.

After a while he felt her lips move tentatively against his and he smiled even as he continued.

_Ahhh…_ He inwardly groaned. It was much better with her sensual lips caressing his. Still he could feel her uncertainty and he reminded himself that he had decided to take things slow.

With a force of will he broke away from her mouth, only to allow his lips to meander. He kissed her chin and her jawline, letting his tongue tickle a wet trail along the skin. His left hand was still securely wrapped at the back of her neck holding her still. As he moved his mouth down the underside of her chin to her throat he felt her swallow and shiver. She had helplessly tipped her head back, allowing him better access to her graceful neck. His teeth grazed along her pulse point. Her increasing heart rate vibrated against his lips and he exhaled hotly against her skin.

There were no boundaries for his hands- his nimble fingers working on the buttons of her jacket. She was not sure when the little coat was tossed aside. Her silk shirt was next, but this he only unbuttoned, his fingers careful not to graze the flesh beneath. Still he parted the sides so that her bra and belly were exposed. But again he was careful not to study either too closely just yet. His hands were not done exploring.

A whimpering gasp caught his attention and he realized where his left hand had strayed. Her skirt was now hip level and his hand was on her inner thigh, so close to her permeating heat it prickled along his skin. Volcano hot the center of her was like the core of the earth. His fingers played beneath the satin tops of her stockings, and felt the garters holding them securely. He stopped mouthing her around her collarbone to take a sudden step back, both hands leaving her body.

Her eyes opened, and had her fingers not curled themselves around the edge of the desk she might've fallen. But he wasn't looking at her; instead he was staring intently at her legs- or more precisely at the apex of her thighs and the lacy panties set low on her hips below the matching garter belt.

Her outfits were always rich black, navy blue, occasionally a dark maroon. But her brief/thong was pure white, intricately embroidered lace. Her warm skin tone contrasted pleasantly with the purity of the undergarments and he found a smile threatening.

For someone so seemingly quiet she had very provocative underwear.

Despite his appreciative gaze, she must have been unnerved as she quickly stepped away from the desk- a hand poised to tug her skirt back into place. But before he had become president he had served in the military- special ops to be exact. His movements were still lightning quick.

He was suddenly standing flush with her body, his hands around her wrists, holding them at her sides as he gave her a stern look that stilled her. Dark chocolate eyes stared up at him, the flush in her face seeming permanent as her hands trembled in his grip. He released one wrist to place a reassuring hand against her cheek.

"If there is some place you would rather be…" His thumb moved across her lip again as he spoke gently.

She said nothing. But after a time of holding his gaze- seeing the depths of his need- her eyes slid closed in surrender, long midnight lashes brushing her cheeks.

"Hmm." He gave a brief chuckle.

She kept her eyes closed, even as she felt him place his hand firmly on her thighs once more, pushing the fabric of her skirt even further up so that it bunched around her waist. He took hold of her exposed hips and languidly trailed his fingers down until he reached the top of her stockings. Carefully he unclasped the little silver latches attached to the silky nylons. His fingers dipped into the tops of them to slowly circle her thighs to unclasp the latches at the back- the tickling sensation causing her legs to quiver slightly.

She didn't realize that he had crouched in front of her until she felt his lips gently touch each thigh in turn.

Her eyes were open in an instant and she hesitantly let her gaze fall as though afraid to find a beast at her feet instead of the man she had served the last two years. He was very still, his eyes level with her hips.

Her thighs were thicker, but toned. She had always cut a nice figure in her uniform, a curvy feminine shape hugged by the fabric. Byakuya wondered when he had actually taken notice.

When his eyes snapped up to meet hers she jumped slightly. She was held in thrall by how dark they had turned- granite grey, now almost black. His hands were poised at her sides, fingers twitching eagerly just beneath the tops of her panties. There was a question in his gaze. Even having gone this far he could not put aside the gentleman he was raised to be- at least not yet.

Xochitl's lips parted, feeling rather breathless as she fell further into the pools of bottomless desire staring up at her. Her glasses had slid slightly down her nose. She sucked in her bottom lip slowly, gnawing on it for a moment as she let his longing flow over her, awakening her own.

He knew that gesture was not just a nervous habit, but a display of her own barely contained passion.

He smirked, held her gaze and with deliberate slowness pulled her panties to her ankles.

Time passed, seconds, minutes, before his breath- hot with fever-like hunger, breezed over her bare sex. Her head fell back, her eyes closed as she dug her fingernails into the wood.

She felt like a khamsin was ghosting over her beneath the desert palms. She could see herself lying naked in the grass on a sweltering summer day. She felt slick and flushed, wetness gathering in the most intimate part of her.

When he wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs pulling her forward slightly she arched into his touch with a whimper.

It was all the encouragement he needed to draw her legs a bit further apart and touch his tongue to the swollen bud glistening between her lips.

With a cry she arched further, nearly losing her grip on the desk, now half sitting half leaning against it.

One hand left her thigh to spread her folds further so that he could taste all of her, already addicted to the ambrosia-sweet flavor of her.

Her feet danced on the carpet, her toes curling in her heels when his finger slid into her dripping cavern, his tongue still working her clit.

She had never dared think about it before- how it might feel to let this gorgeous man touch her. Well- truth be told she had avoided such a thought as it was hard enough not to simply just stare at him when in his presence.

Now she couldn't help but wonder if the half a glass of wine she's sipped had gone straight to her head and thrown her into some torrid fantasy world. But the waves of pleasure were all too real, dragging her from the sturdy shores of practical thought.

Each moaning breath she took made him drive his finger in deeper, faster, made his tongue blur between her folds.

He could barely fathom the desperate feeling in the pit of his stomach that urged him to find the spot that would make her scream. Still he felt his length straining against his pants and a selfish part of him wanted to forego making her come and simply take her. But he realized it was pure selfishness regardless. He wanted it all- wanted to feel all of her as well as satisfy his own needs. Right now it was very simple- he _**needed**_ to make her soaking wet.

When she began to draw her legs in he knew she was tottering on the edge. She looked down the angled line of her body at him at the same time he flicked his heavy-lidded gaze to her face. The look in her eyes gazing at him over the frame of her glasses made him pump his finger faster in and out of her, the wet sound making his cock even harder.

Her breath had become shorter, her gasps becoming whines as they escaped her mouth. He could feel the ripple of her muscles around his finger.

He let his teeth nibble suddenly on her bulb and watched as she threw her head back. This time she did lose her grip on the desk and fell back hard against its paper scattered surface as she cried out her orgasm. Shuddering, she let her body go limp as she fought for air.

He did not give her a chance to catch her breath. At his full height he grabbed her forearm, yanking her up and clasping his other hand at the back of her neck once more.

The eagerness of his kiss made her hands tremble as she grabbed at his suit coat to steady herself. His tongue swept her mouth and she met him with equal ardor, despite the fact that the echoes of her orgasm were still ringing through her. Her body felt weak, but he was easily arousing her, making her crave more.

Without warning he snaked one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He slid his arm lower and understanding his intentions she wrapped her legs around his hips. He hefted her with ease.

They dropped into the chair behind his desk and this jolted her into awareness.

She was a White House secretary and she was straddling the President's lap as he mouthed her neck, his teeth clamping on her pulse point. As she writhed against him- the attention to her neck the biggest turn on- she couldn't help but debate on whether she should stop him.

Her reputation was nothing compared to his. In the scheme of things she was very small. Yet she could become his ruin by just giving in to her own desires.

But as he lifted his hips to grind against her still dripping sex, she felt his arousal and recalled that it had not been just her desires that had driven them to this point.

Still, she pulled back, both to breathe and to look him in the eyes. He allowed this, his own breath slightly unsteady.

"This is… a scandal waiting to happen." She breathed out. He couldn't help but simply look down at her chest as her breasts heaved against the lace they were still encased in.

He made a mental note to remedy this after he had soothed her fears.

"I have no intention of airing this to the press," He said reasonably, meeting her gaze, "Do you?"

Her doe-eyes widened and she shook her head in adamant denial.

He nearly smiled at the expression on her face. She was so earnest.

His hand slid upward into her hair, his fingers flexing back and forth in a gentle rhythm. It was like stroking a kitten; he watched as her eyes closed helplessly, leaning into his hand.

But when her eyes opened again uncertainty sparkled in their depths.

He momentarily paused in his ministrations and slowly brought his hands up to her face. Carefully, all the while looking into her eyes, he took her glasses off. Rich cypress colored eyes, lined by impossibly thick lashes met his gaze.

The intensity of his need- of his pure and unadulterated yearning barreled into her. It travelled all throughout her body until it settled with explosive fire between her legs.

"We have already come this far," He coaxed softly, that smooth baritone like silk trailing her skin. He stopped massaging and tangled his fingers in her locks, tugging her forward. Against her lips he whispered, "Why stop now?"

Without further ado she was grappling with the buttons of his white tux shirt her mouth hungrily devouring his own. He was pleasantly surprised at the aggression, but did not hesitate to spider his fingers up her spine beneath her loose shirt to the clasp of her bra. As she was pushing aside his shirt to touch the glorious muscles beneath, he was making lazy patterns on her now bare back with his hand.

His breath hissed out suddenly as her nails scraped along his abs, her mouth leaving his so that she could sink her teeth into his peck around his nipple. Sweat had already been subtly beading on his skin beneath his clothes and she could taste the salt of it as her tongue lathed over his nipple. She felt his god-like abs twitching beneath her hands.

A groan flew forth from his mouth. When had she moved her hands?

Both of her hands were now circled around the bulge of cloth at the crotch of his pants.

Her teeth were still nibbling, but he groaned again when heard the distinct sound of his zipper sliding down.

She wasted no time; her delicate hands diving beneath the fabric to wrapped around his length and pull it forth.

His arms enveloped her waist urgently, his hips thrusting upward as he buried his face against the curve of her neck.

Byakuya's every thought was lost to the firm grip of her hands on his rigid member.

The thought that he wouldn't last long if her hands did not stop gliding over him finally reached him, however and he took a firm hold of her sides, lifting her.

Her eyes snapped to his face, her hands slipping away, but before she realized what was happening he was filling her up with his hardness.

He had pushed her straight down on his cock and now they were both oblivious to everything but the ecstasy they found in being joined together.

Byakuya couldn't hear her pleasure-filled cries over the sound of his own harsh breathing as she shifted, her walls adjusting to his thickness and length.

The young woman's arms encircled his shoulders and she leaned forward to press her lips to his with clear excitement.

They moaned together as the kiss became more heated and she rolled her hips against his.

When he drove his hips upward she moved her lips away to utter a sharp cry, which was soon muffled by his mouth as he drew her head toward him again.

They battled. Kiss for kiss. Thrust for thrust.

As they found a rhythm the sweat began to pour.

Byakuya gripped her hair, pulling her head back as she rode him. He forced her to meet his eyes as she bounced in his lap.

"Sing for me." He insisted suddenly.

Her back arching as she sheathed him inside her and rose up on her knees so that he nearly slipped out of her she could barely speak, "Wh-what?"

He watched her swollen lips intently as he said thickly, "I have heard you hum on occasion. I know you must- be able to sing."

Her pace did not slow even as she considered him.

The president smirked and squeezed her breasts, pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger.

"It's my birthday, will you deny me?" His eyes narrowed slightly, speaking in a slightly frosty tone.

"Technically- sir- it-is… no longer your birthday." She gasped out.

Was that a challenge in her eyes? He met her with a sharp thrust and she squirmed.

"That fact did not stop you before." He teased- the ice gone from his voice. She blinked, nearly losing the tempo.

When she did not respond his hands grasped her hips, holding her so that he had control. He bucked his hips several times which produced a series of shrill cries to erupt from her throat.

"Sing."

Her only answer was a moan as he ground her against his pelvis. He released her and allowed her to catch her breath.

She started a slower rhythm.

"_Happy birthday to you…"_ Her voice was unsteady, but sweet. She had a pleasant alto voice, slightly husky, but that was likely due to her exertions.

Byakuya's lips closed around her left nipple.

"_Hap-py birthday- to you…" _Her breath wavered the closer she came to soaking him with her climax.

He licked all around her breast enjoying the slight vibration of her chest as she sang.

"_Hap-py birth-day, Mr…Presi-dent…" _ Her walls were starting to tighten around him- sucking him in deeply.

He exhaled in a rush of burgeoning gratification, continuing to push himself up inside her almost desperately. For the first time in almost six years he could feel the pulsing effects of a mind-blowing orgasm. He increased his speed and she just managed to keep up.

The muscles in her thighs were aching, her whole body tense with her need to come. Xochitl rose up and forced herself back down.

"_Hap-py… birth-day-", _The young secretary was suddenly tossing her head unable to continue the tune.

"Ah! Ah! Ahhh!" Her cunt fisted around him and her orgasm rocked her entire body.

At the same time Byakuya felt her release he found he could no longer hold back. He filled her, his swollen member quivering and exploding with hot come.

Her hair tickled his face as she slumped forward, her breath ghosting at the hollow of his neck. His fingers slicked in her sweat running up and down her spine.

As calm slowly returned, the president felt a rare sense of satisfaction tugging at his mind.

The Commander and Chief smiled, _"To me."_

* * *

AN: FYI just have to mention that the most ironic thing happened as I was wrapping up this one-shot (I started on 2/1/13 and it is now 1:44 a.m. on 2/3/13): The Maltese Falcon came on TCM. Ahhh, yes, all is right w/the universe.

Hope you liked it!

And HAPPY (BELATED) BIRTHDAY BYAKUYA!


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